


Old Friend

by RegalMisfortune



Series: Gods of Our Time [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Lunar Skins!, ana and zarya are deities but playing it cool in this one, ana joins in occasionally, i dont really know how to write brigitte but wanted to so i did, i mean you can read the relationships further in if you'd like but honestly, reinhardt is kinda like brigitte's trouble making uncle, this fic is a little bit of serious a little bit of not, this series is a disaster, well off-handedly, whom she teases lots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalMisfortune/pseuds/RegalMisfortune
Summary: After leaving Eichenwalde at the start of Reinhardt's journey to answer the Recall, he and Brigitte take the unbeaten path to meet an old friend of Reinhardt's.





	Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Some more character practice. I have no idea how to write Brigitte but wanted to write her in regardless.
> 
> Feel free to suggest characters and situations, either in the comments or on my [tumblr.](http://regalmisfortune.tumblr.com/)

Eichenwalde was behind them now, disappearing behind the dense trees. The old van rumbled quietly over forgotten roads, most overgrown from the decade of disuse.

Brigitte sighed as she propped an elbow against the door, gazing out of the window at the passing foliage. Reinhardt had been quiet since they left the old castle, leaving behind the old memento with Balderich’s eternal rest upon the throne.

She both understood the old Crusader’s reasoning to answer the Recall and not, her heart and mind at odds. Reinhardt was fulfilling his old commander’s promise, returning back to fighting to protect and to serve. But Overwatch had wrung him and left him out for dry all those years ago, leaving Reinhardt without any direction, wandering aimlessly through the backwoods of Europe, defending civilians here and fighting back gangsters there. They did him a great disservice, and now after all these years of such minimal contact with anyone else from the old group, Winston of all agents had initiated the Recall. Without government support.

But yet here Reinhardt was, old but still full of life, ready to fight to his dying breath. He was never a man to simply carry out his life in peace and quiet, to go out protecting the ones he cherished and the ones who needed it the most in a blaze of glory was more of his flavor- not even the past battles and conflicts could dissuade him from that. Brigitte still worried, however, that this Recall would only bring him disappointment, that he would not escape the end of whatever conflict they would throw him in unscathed. He was a good man, and she did not want to see him get hurt.

Even if he lived to fight.

It was why she was still here, coming along with this crazy decision of answering the Recall. Reinhardt may be set in his ways, but Brigitte could leave at any time. Her father would’ve preferred it, in fact. But he wasn’t there and she couldn’t get herself to let the old soldier go. After all, _someone_ had to patch up his armor while he went careening over cliffs and chasing after roving gangs of looters. The armor was meant to take a beating, but it with its age and wear it needed some tender loving care to keep it operational and therefore keeping Reinhardt alive to see another day.

And she would be the one to keep it that way. For his sake.

Brigitte lifted her head as the van took an unexpected turn, thrusters whining quietly as Reinhardt turned off at a junction that she was sure had not been there when they came in.

“Where are we going?” she broke the silence, her arm sliding from the door as they drove through the trees.

“To see an old friend,” Reinhardt replied, his mouth quirking slightly. “One a bit more lively, this time.” He tried to play it off as a joke, but it only made Brigitte frown at him. He gave a helpless little shrug, knowing it came out in relative poor taste, but she couldn’t help but breathe out a snort through her nose, shaking her head as she reached over and gave him a light punch to the shoulder.

The van emerged from the tree line and into a wide clearing beside a winding river, a quaint little house with flowerbeds full of bobbing heads of blossoms greeted them. Brigitte couldn’t help but lean closer towards the window, staring out at the beautiful landscape. It was all so very peaceful here, as if she had been transplanted to a place untouched by the old scars of war. No one lived this close to Eichenwalde, not for kilometers around, and there were no signs of ancient omnics had ever been here.

Perhaps the owner had gotten really lucky, or simply moved in when everyone else left. Certainly would have been cheap.

Reinhardt looked happier now than he did in Eichenwalde, his face no longer withdrawn and brow pinched with serious thoughts. The weight of the world seemed to have faded away as he stepped out of the van and into fresh air.

“What, you have yourself a hot date?” Brigitte couldn’t help but tease, and Reinhardt laughed, deep and booming even while his cheekbones tinted pink.

“Just a little friendly chat,” he rumbled as he clomped up to the front door and gave it a sharp knock. “Nothing like that, I assure you.”

“I suppose that little incident in Munich was just to get an old woman’s hopes up, then,” came a humored, Egyptian-laced voice from behind the door just before it cracked open, revealing a white-haired woman with sun-kissed skin but her single visible eye crinkling with mirth, the other covered by an eyepatch. Her hair had aged to a similar shade of silvery white as Reinhardt’s, braided back and draped over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips. “You certainly know how to make a woman dream too big, Reinhardt.”

The sharp-eyed woman then turned her gaze to Brigitte, her smile turning a little sly at the edges. “He got drunk and gave me such a heartfelt kiss,” she told the younger woman with slight conspiracy in her tone, causing Reinhardt to splutter a little. “Then proceeded to apologize for the next three weeks.”

“Reinhardt you old dog,” Brigitte grinned, elbowing the old man as his face turned as red as the flowers growing beside the doorstep.

“It was an accident!” he managed to get out, abash but smiling all the same as he leaned down to accept the friendly greeting kiss on the cheek from the older woman.

“And I told you many times to worry about it, but you still insisted on apologizing properly” the woman patted his cheek affectionately before turning to Brigitte. “This must be the Brigitte you told me so much about.”

“Talked about me, have you?” Brigitte gave a teasing side-eye to Reinhardt as he rubbed at his neck while she held out her hand to the woman. “I’m afraid he didn’t think to do the same. It’s nice to meet you, Miss…?”

“Ana,” the woman smiled, taking the handshake with ease, her fingers strong and calloused under years of work. “Just Ana is fine. Would you like some tea?”

The inside of the home was just that- homely. It was full of cut flowers, open windows to let in the breeze, soft textiles and dark woods. Brigitte loved it, setting herself down into one of the kitchen chairs as Ana placed a teapot and cups before them. Even Reinhardt didn’t complain, not quite a tea drinker himself Brigitte felt that Ana would give him a masterful disappointed look if he refused, especially since she gave his hand a light smack when he tried to sneak a confectionary off the plate beside her without so much as looking at him.

“What brought you out here this time?” Ana inquired after pouring her tea, the soft murmurs of thanks leaving her guests. Brigitte pulled her cup close, the scent unfamiliar. She didn’t mind tea every once in a while, and this seemed far better than anything she could buy in a store, so she wasn’t about to complain.

“Can’t I see an old friend?” Reinhardt smiled, ignoring his tea in favor of stealing a confection off the plate under the narrow, disapproving gaze of Ana while allowing it to happen.

“Then you plan on leaving for some time,” Ana hummed lowly. “You only say that when you go off for years on end.” Her tone and eye were knowing, not chiding but simply stating the obvious. Did she know about Overwatch, then? Or to some extent what task was now before Reinhardt? “What sort of trouble did you find yourself this time?”

“When called, I must answer,” Reinhardt murmured, his previous jovialness fading as he lowered his large hands to curl around the warm ceramic of his cup, staring into its depths.

“Then it is as I feared,” Ana sighed quietly, lifting her own cup to her lips before setting it aside. “War is coming, then.”

“It has been for some time now. I just worry that it will be too little, too late…”

Brigitte had the nagging feeling that she shouldn’t stick around for this conversation. “I’m going to check on the van,” she stammered out once downing her entire cup of tea, the liquid scalding all the way down her throat while she made a hasty retreat back out the front door, leaving the two elders murmuring quietly at the table, Ana reaching out to gently pat Reinhardt’s hand in comfort. There was an age to their friendship, beyond even her own with the old family friend. It was something that she felt she was intruding on, and one that she was more than happy to leave behind for the fresh air and warm sun outside.

It was a bit too much like seeing her father with mother sometimes, late at night and all quiet words of comfort and soft touches and just _no thank you-_

A bird fluttered down to sit on one of the roof racks of the van, chirping as it bounced to and fro across the rail. It seemed to be a convincing argument, as another bird dropped down from the branches nearby to join the first on the rack, the pair of them seeming quite content there. Brigitte couldn’t bring herself to scare them off, instead turning to walk down a narrow garden path around the home to look at the flowers.

It was rather peaceful here, Brigitte couldn’t help but think, letting the dark conversation and thoughts ease from her mind, just to enjoy the quiet. It may be the last time she would get the chance, when she continued on with Reinhardt to the reforming Overwatch, if only to make sure Reinhardt’s armor was kept up and functioning to bring him back alive for another fight.

She didn’t want to think about the theoretical storm clouds that loomed over them all. Not right now.

Turning around the back corner of the house, Brigitte found herself pausing in her step. An unexpected, unknown person was crouched at the edge of a flower bed underneath a window, arms on their knees and watching something under the stems and leaves, black strands of hair ruffling in the gentle warm breeze.

The stranger seemed to have heard her nevertheless, turning to blink up at her with vibrant green eyes. Soft orange markings graced her cheekbones, a deep cross-shaped scar running down across her right brow and over the very corner of her eye. Her arms were even as large as Reinhardt’s, the snake tattoo visible upon her shoulder.

“Oh, hello,” the stranger blinked, voice thick with a Russian accent. “You visiting, yes?”

“Reinhardt is, mostly,” Brigitte decided to keep the conversation calm as she shrugged. The stranger must know Ana to know where she lived, let alone let herself into her yard to look at flowers. But she didn’t recall seeing another vehicle… perhaps she lived here as well? “Although I think those two have a bit more history than they care to admit.”

“Are they kissing?” The stranger sounded far too curious for her own good, slowly rising up while rolling back her broad shoulders to try to peek into the window.

“You can’t just _look_!” Brigitte hissed, half amused and half scandalized as she quickly took the two steps closer to grasp the larger woman’s arm, which was surprisingly cool to the touch, and pulling her back down below the windowsill. “And the last time I checked, no.”

“Well that’s no fun,” the Russian gave a dramatic sigh that did not match the wry smile on her face as she dropped back down to her crouch by the flowerbed. Brigitte hesitated for just a moment before kneeling down beside her, peering into the flowerbed.

“What are you looking for?”

“A snake,” the stranger replied. “He’s shy. Hid away when you came.”

“I’m sorry.” Brigitte didn’t know what else to say, shifting slightly as she gave the flowers a cautious glance. She didn’t care much for snakes, but at least they kept to themselves so she mostly ignored them. "You must like them quite a bit,” she added, remembering the tattoo on her shoulder.

“Yes. And turtles.” A pause. “And bears.”

“Snakes, turtles, and…bears?” Brigitte couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, a grin creeping onto her mouth. “That seems to be quite a big jump.”

Bears are good,” the Russian affirmed seriously, making a curving gesture with her hands. “Their ears are round and cute.”

“I will have to give you that,” Brigitte agreed. “Their ears are cute.” She fell quiet for a moment, before glancing over at the woman who was staring almost dejectedly into the flowers, disappointed in not seeing the snake anymore. “Hey, uh, you want to see this cute tortoise video I found?” she asked, pulling out her handheld from her back pocket. “A kid feeds them lettuce.”

That seemed to perk up the strange woman, and the pair of them sat down on the stone path, shoulders brushing as they watched the holovids of the cutest animals they could find. The Russian seemed entirely entranced the entire time, the pair of them thoroughly distracted from their worries as the sun slowly sank behind the trees.

“I see you made yourself a friend, Aleksandra,” Ana’s accented words pulled the younger women from their cooing over a litter of wild lynx that one of Brigitte’s younger siblings had recorded, blinking owlishly up at the elder as she smiled down at the pair of them, Reinhardt grinning just behind her.

The Russian- Aleksandra- gave Ana a brilliant smile.

“She’s showing me cats!” she blustered with glee, standing up and more than happily reaching down and lifting Brigitte by the scruff of her shirt.

“Hey!”

“Manners,” Ana chided gently but firmly, and the snake and bear-enthusiast flushed before carefully setting Brigitte back on her feet. She herself was more surprised than offended, knowing that she wasn’t the tallest woman in the world but certainly strong and heavy. Yet the much broader Russian simply picked her up like she weighed less than paper.

“Sorry,” Aleksandra murmured with a sheepish smile, and Brigitte couldn’t help but return it.

“It’s fine,” she answered the taller woman with a lopsided grin before her eyes drifted over to Reinhardt. “I suppose we are leaving now?”

“We need to make it out of the forest before lights out,” he affirmed, giving a small smile to Ana as the elder gave him a soft touch to the arm.

“You will be safe,” she told him, and it was a confident statement, certain in her words that they would be all right.

“Guided by the Owl and protected by the Turtle,” Aleksandra nodded in agreement, putting her hands on her hips as she beamed, proud of the strange blessing. “It is nice meeting you!”

“How do you know her?” Brigitte couldn’t help but ask as they got into the van and pulled away, glancing into the side mirror at the large Russian who waved excitedly at their departure. “Ana, I mean. You seem to go way back.”

“We met a long time ago,” Reinhardt confirmed, turning the van off onto a main road- one that they had not come off of earlier, the sign exclaiming that they were almost two hundred kilometers away from where they had pulled off, the sun peeking over the horizon and painting the skies a brilliant orange. A white and grey speckled owl sat upon the sign, its feathers ruffling a little before it took flight and glided off into the growing darkness.

Perhaps Brigitte misread the sign at being distracted by the unusual owl sighting, but her brow scrunched together in confusion as she peered into the side mirror behind them either way.

But the road that led up to Ana’s home wasn’t there.

 


End file.
